


Swords and Misfits

by theDah



Series: Tumblr prompts / events [2]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Kenshin has a daughter, Ruroken Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theDah/pseuds/theDah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world, where Kenshin fathered a daughter as a teenager... his and Kaoru's first meeting spans out in a slightly different way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swords and Misfits

**Author's Note:**

> Rurouni Kenshin Week, SET ALPHA, day 2 – Canon Divergence  
> Characters: Kaoru Kamiya, Kenshin Himura, Himura Oyuki (OC)  
> Rating: T  
> Setting: Meiji 11 (anime ep 1), Canon divergence - Kenshin has a daughter.  
> Word count: 3848  
> Notes: Thank you @animaniacal for your help in editing!

# Swords and Misfits

 

“I want to learn swordsmanship.”

Kaoru gaped in disbelief, unable to believe her ears. This tall, black-haired young lady before her wanted to learn how to fight? “What? But – but you…”  

The girl couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen. She was flat as a board, all elbows and knees and still, no one would dare to doubt that in a few years, she would grow into the sort of beauty that turned heads and broke hearts with just a glance from her soulful, dark eyes.

“Is it about the money?” the girl asked and dug out a pretty, embroidered purse from her kimono sleeve. “I have little, but you can have it for your time, Kamiya-san. So please, will you teach me?”

“Uh, um…”

If this question had come her way last week, Kaoru wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. She wouldn’t even have had to think about it! The chance to teach her passion to another girl, one that wasn’t that much younger than her… it would be a dream come true!

But just two days ago, her last students, Hira-san and Sato-san, had given up her sword style and left, for fear of being associated with the murderer preying on her neighborhood. What right had she to risk taking in a new student, least of all one so young, when her school and her reputation was under attack?

Kaoru gnawed on her lip. “It’s not that I don’t  _want_  to teach you, Miss–”

“Oyuki,” the girl cut in. “My name is Himura Oyuki.”

“Himura-san,” Kaoru inclined her head. “But haven’t you heard about the murders Hitokiri Battousai has been conducting these past few weeks? How he claims he learned his killing style from my school?”  

“Yes, that’s how I learned about you in the first place,” Oyuki-san said promptly. “Fear not, I’m aware that those rumors are nothing but filthy lies.”

“They are,” Kaoru agreed, surprised by the vehemence in that statement. “But still, why would you want to learn Kamiya Kasshin Ryu after hearing that… and why now? Aren’t you afraid of the rumors? Of being associated with that terrible murderer Battousai?”

“No, why should I be?” Oyuki tilted her head to the side like she honestly didn’t see why Kaoru was making such a big deal out of this. “As to why now… this is the first time I have found a teacher who won’t turn me down because I’m a girl. So please, Kamiya-san – give me the chance to learn! I promise you won’t regret it!”

What could a teacher do when faced with such conviction?

Kaoru huffed and turned on her heel, walking to the shinai rack to pick up a pair of bamboo swords. She threw one to the girl. “Then let’s get to work, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

The dock’s notice board was notably scarce of job offerings this afternoon.

At least, when it came to any form of  _light_  manual labor or deliveries. Kenshin frowned, eyeing the announcement asking for men to unload fishing crates, and then he shook his head, knowing he couldn’t do it long or well enough to get paid. Even now, after years of hard work and travel, he just wasn’t suitable for work that required exerting consistent strength. Still, he needed to find some way to earn money, or he would be forced to leave town all too soon, without having a chance to spend any time with his daughter…

Just this morning, he had given all the hard-earned savings he had gathered during the winter season, traveling and seeking out miscellaneous work in the countryside, to pay for Oyuki’s apprenticeship under a respectable seamstress. Now, he was penniless, too poor to buy his next meal – never mind of buying anything nice to please Oyuki.

His daughter was angry at him again.

Not that she’d tell it to him straight to his face. She was far too well-mannered for that in her cool, reserved way, but he could tell. It was all in the moody tilt of her chin, the dark glowering looks she shot him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking… Kenshin sighed softly. He couldn’t exactly blame her for her feelings. He had done much wrong by her, leaving her to be raised by caretakers, always traveling, seeking out jobs, never being able to spend a meaningful amount of time with her other than the short, week long visits about twice a year.

“Father,” Oyuki said suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Have you heard the rumors of Battousai murdering people in town?”

“Yes,” he allowed, turning to look at her somewhat warily.

“If you have heard,” she narrowed her eyes, her voice full of accusation, “then, why aren’t you doing something about it?”

Kenshin exhaled softly, suddenly weary. “Oyuki-chan, you know why, that you do,” he said. “If people see a red-haired man with a cross-shaped scar stopping a so-called fake, it won’t take much imagination for them to figure out the truth.”

“But what if you wore a mask or something?” Her brows furrowed in thought. “This Battousai has been killing people for weeks now and the police haven’t gotten anywhere close to catching him. The sword style he claims to use, Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, is in a huge trouble because of it – Kamiya-san said all their students left!”

“Even so, it’d be a folly,” Kenshin said firmly. The sad fact was that Hiten Mitsuguri was far too recognizable for those who know what to look for. The police forces in Tokyo were led by former Samurai from Satsuma, men who had seen him in action countless times in the last year of the revolution. So while Kenshin knew it was his responsibility to stop the impostor if people were getting hurt… he couldn’t make that choice.

He simply couldn’t risk his daughter’s happiness on a fool’s crusade.

The apprenticeship that guaranteed her an education and livelihood was here in Tokyo. He had struggled so hard to find her a good, respectable master in a craft she enjoyed, hoping to give her the best possible future… But if it became known that the real Battousai had been in town, how long would it take for his old enemies to track her down? Or worse, his old allies? Since Katsura-san had died, the veil hiding his tracks from the former Choshuu Ishin Shishi was getting thinner. How could his only daughter have a chance for a proper life if she had to be always alert for people seeking to use her against him?

“It isn’t easy choice for this one to make,” Kenshin admitted, reaching to grab her shoulder gently. “But please, Oyuki-chan – let it go. The police will catch the culprit soon, that they will.”

Her eyes shone with disappointment and betrayal. “But daa-ad…” She begged softly, using her little girl’s voice like she hadn’t in years.

It broke Kenshin’s heart, but he knew it to be the right choice. “No, Oyuki-chan. This one is sorry, but no.”

 

* * *

 

Kaoru hadn’t really expected Oyuki-san to return, least of all on the same day. But there she was, wearing the spare practice uniform Kaoru had loaned her this morning and swinging her shinai with a fierce determination, repeating the simple, overhead strike aimed at an imaginary target’s head.

The look in her eyes was downright  _vicious_.

“What’s wrong?” Kaoru raised her voice to ask.

Oyuki-san scrambled to stop and bowed respectfully in her direction, mumbling, “Nothing! Nothing is wrong!”

“Isn’t it impolite to lie to one’s teacher?” Kaoru asked, testing the waters.

An embarrassed blush spread on Oyuki’s cheeks, but she straightened, “It’s… It’s about my father.” She admitted and then looked up, starting to explain with haste, “I tried to tell my father about your trouble, Kaoru-san – but he refused to listen to me and said that the police will catch the Battousai soon!”

“You asked  _your father_  to  _help_   _me_?” Kaoru exclaimed in shock. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“Who else would I ask?” Oyuki mumbled, looking aside moodily. “Besides, he’s a swordsman. They say he is really good. He fought in the revolution and everything.”

Kaoru exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of her nose, counting backward from ten, lest she say something she’d regret. Then, she spoke, “Oyuki-san, it’s been two years since the sword ban. No one except the men in the police and army is allowed to carry a sword. Even if your honorable father fought in the revolution, you can’t just expect him to suddenly attempt to seek out and to stop a vicious murderer on my behalf.”

“But Kaoru-san, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you! I like you! You look at me like I am a real person, not someone’s daughter. If my father would just listen to me, he’d understand and do something, I’m sure of it!”

“I like you too, Oyuki-san,” Kaoru said. “But, still, please – don’t go asking your father to break the law. I have made it this far, haven’t I?”

However, before she could say more, the dojo’s doors slammed open with force.

A giant of a man stepped inside, a sword held over his shoulder and a nasty, leering grin on his face. Worse, he wasn’t alone. A group of disreputable looking thugs, ronin, and yakuza of worst sort followed him, all armed and looking like they had come for the best show of the week.

Her gut twisting with dread, Kaoru stepped in front of Oyuki and drew the bokken she always carried on her sash these days. She settled for an open, defensive stance and said, “Gentlemen, you are not welcome here.”

“Hear that, boys?” The giant barked a laugh. “Our little girl tries to threaten the Battousai with her wooden sword!”

“The Battousai?!” Kaoru asked, her eyes narrowing with rage.

“Oh, yes.” The giant sneered. “Kamiya Kaoru… I have waited for this day for a long time,” he drew his sword from its scabbard with his left hand. “The day I get my revenge for this hand of mine.”

His right thumb was twisted and gnarled,  _mutilated_.

It tingled her memory and Kaoru’s heart skipped a beat…. as she recalled an old student, whom her father had expelled once upon a time for brutality. The last pieces dropped into place, painting a terrible picture.

“Then it was you, all along… Hiruma Gohei.”

“Yes,” he leered. “Now, will you girls roll on your backs right away? Or do you want to show me just how pathetic you Kamiya Kasshin Ryu really is when faced with the real deal?”

His raking gaze left nothing to the imagination, drawing out a shocked whimper from the girl behind her. Kaoru squared her shoulders and snarled, “You will never lay a hand on me or my student – not while I can do something about it!”

 

* * *

 

Despite what he’d said to his daughter, Kenshin kept his ears open when he roamed the bars by the harbor, looking for hints of possible jobs. Much to his disgruntlement, no one seemed willing to hire him… and the sword he carried on his waist had garnered him far too many oblique hints about the “golden opportunity” someone called Hiruma Gohei was offering anyone willing to do some dirty work.

Honestly, it wasn’t the first time somehow had tried to recruit Kenshin for criminal activities… but when he finally figured out that Hiruma Gohei was also known as the street-killer _Battousai_  and he was planning to wreck the Kamiya Dojo today, raid everything worth stealing and take the heiress for spoils, all Kenshin’s earlier convictions of looking aside in this matter rang hollow.

Cursing himself for a fool, he rushed through the streets, trying to find his way to the dojo in time. Guilt and terrible fear coursed through his veins as he prayed that Oyuki wasn’t as pig-headed and passionate as he had been at that age. While his baby daughter took after Tomoe in looks and reserved manners both, that glower in her eyes this morning, it had been like looking into a mirror…

_Please, Oyuki-chan – please, don’t be there! I’ll never forgive myself if you have gotten hurt!_

When Kenshin saw the dojo’s gates flung open wide, heard the dozens of jeering shouts coming from inside, he was sure he was far too late, that everything was already lost. But instead of the horror show he expected, he was met with a sight of a fierce young woman clashing swords with a giant man thrice her size. She looked like a demented goddess of war, her dark bangs plastered to her brow by sweat, blood trickling down from her split lip, her blue eyes shining with determination as she dodged the lumbering ogre’s strikes with skill and precision, much to the disappointment of the crowd of twenty-three yakuza thugs following the fight, salivating like dogs waiting for a bone.

….And behind all those hulking bodies, in a corner defended by that lady warrior, was his baby girl, pale and shocked – but otherwise unharmed. It was the only reason Kenshin didn’t flip his sword and kill these men, his oath be damned.

“Himura Gohei!” Kenshin called out loudly. “This ends now!”

The giant took a few steps backward from his fight and glanced at him. “And who the fuck are you?”

Kenshin settled into a battoujutsu stance and narrowed his eyes. “Someone you shouldn’t have pissed off.”

 

* * *

 

It was like watching a demon straight out of a kabuki play, to see that small, red-haired man cut through the mass of twenty yakuza like they were nothing but obstacles in his path. The speed of his moves, the speed of his sword, the speed of reading his opponents… it was almost  _godlike_. Surely, no one could be that fast? At least, no one human?

And then, there was no one left standing but him.

The small redhead rested his naked blade on his shoulders and looked at them with calm, violet eyes like he hadn’t just brought down twenty men.

Kaoru stared at him in horror.

Who was he?

A friend? A foe? A monster far worse than Hiruma Gohei and his thugs combined?

She wasn’t the only one driven to terror. A few feet from her, Hiruma was staring at the redhead like he was a rattlesnake about to strike. Sweat beaded his brow as he tightened his fingers around his sword hilt, his knuckles bleeding white from the force of his grip.

Then the redhead looked past them and his eyes softened. “Oyuki-chan… Are you alright?”

A small, breathless voice gasped behind Kaoru, “Yes, dad.”

“The brat is yours?” Hiruma said slowly, his nostrils flaring like a hound smelling blood.

The redhead nodded. “Yes.”

“I see, well then how about…” Hiruma started, as if about to negotiate, but Kaoru saw how he changed his weight from one leg to another, in preparation for—

_Oh, no you don’t!_

Fast as a charging bull, Hiruma lunged—

And Kaoru charged, and from his blind spot, struck down with all her strength to the junction of his neck and shoulder. The giant dropped, hitting the floor like a massive tree coming down, the floorboards squeaking from the weight of his fall.

A silence descended on them.

Oyuki gaped, her eyes huge and awe-struck, “Kaoru-san…”  

A sword clicked into its sheath behind them and suddenly, Oyuki’s face lighted up like a sun peeking behind a wall of clouds. The girl clambered to her feet, a wordless wail rising from her chest and she ran past Kaoru, into the arms of the redheaded killer.

“Don’t you  _ever_  dare frighten me like that again!” the redhead swore, hugging the girl like his life depended on it. “You know I couldn’t bear losing you, that I couldn’t.”

Kaoru gaped, her mouth falling open.

The man, Oyuki’s father… he looked so  _young_. His face was that of a strikingly handsome boy, not much older than her seventeen years. But somehow, he still called Oyuki his daughter. How was that supposed to make sense? Had he adopted Oyuki or something?

 _No, focus!_  Kaoru swallowed, once, twice… and tried to force her mind back to urgent matters. If Hiruma was dealt with and the redhead was occupied by comforting his daughter, then what about the thugs? Was there still someone alive among them?

She headed to the closest prone body, only to stare in shock.

There was no blood.

No wounds.

“They are only unconscious, that they are,” a soft voice remarked behind her.

“I can see that,” Kaoru agreed in disbelief. “But… how?”

The redhead smiled and drew his sword from its sheath to show her its strange, backward design. “This is a reverse blade.”

“Oh…”

“Kaoru-san,” Oyuki called out to her. “My dad doesn’t kill. He swore not to, after the revolution.”

“That one did.” The redhead confirmed. “Though reversed or not – most police officers seem to consider this unworthy one’s blade  _sword enough_  and as such, against the sword ban.”

Recognizing the veiled complaint, Kaoru couldn’t help snorting dryly, “I bet they do.” Her dojo’s floor was riddled with thugs beaten unconscious and here they were joking about the police! She huffed softly and let a small smile grace her lips. “I, ah… I don’t think I caught your name, Himura-san?”

“Well, this one usually goes by…” He started, but Oyuki gave him a pointed glare. He reddened slightly and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Er, it’s Kenshin. Himura Kenshin, that’s this one’s name now.”

Kaoru wasn’t sure what that was about but took the chance to introduce herself in turn. It was only polite, after all. “I’m Kamiya Kaoru, the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu.” She hesitated, not entirely sure how to put her question, but then forged on anyway, because it really seemed too large of a coincidence, “I, ah… I’m sorry if this seems rude. But that scar of yours, and your hair…”

Kenshin’s smiled grew forced. “Oro! Well, that’s…”

“Don’t you dare to lie!” Oyuki said. “I know you hesitate to let people know, but Kaoru-san saved me and promised to teach me her family’s sword style!”

“She did?” Kenshin’s brows climbed high. “So that’s why you are wearing men’s clothes…”

“Those are my spare training clothes,” Kaoru said. “I was only happy to lend them to your daughter for training. I know we just started, but if she continues with this sort of enthusiasm, I can already tell she will be brilliant swordswoman someday.”

“Ororo…” He mumbled, looking a bit disgruntled. “But Oyuki-chan, you know this one never wanted you to—“

“But what if  _I want_  to learn?” Oyuki countered, her eyes locked on Kenshin’s. “You don’t  _know_  me. You only think you do after listening to my Master’s reports whenever you come to pay for my apprenticeship. You are always on the road, looking for jobs and dodging people who can put two and two together about your hair, scar, and sword.” She paused to bite her lip, looking at him sadly, “Why can’t you  _be_ where I  _need_  you, father?”  

“That’s…” Kenshin grimaced, and looked aside, trailing his fingers on the hilt of his sword. “Oyuki, you know this one would like nothing more than to spend more time with you, but that name… so many people hate Hitokiri Battousai, that they do. How can this one keep you safe, if his enemies know where to find you?”

Hearing that name from his lips wasn’t as much of a shock anymore; it just served to confirm what she had already known. Besides, it explained a great deal… and led to a lot more questions. Kaoru looked between them, the father with a real, visible ghost of the past haunting him and a daughter begging him to stay.

It would be presumptuous to say that Kaoru understood everything, but given how ragged Kenshin’s clothes looked, she wouldn’t be surprised to hear he usually hunted for his food and slept under bridges. Oyuki’s words about him leaving, traveling and looking for jobs made it a sure bet that he was a homeless wanderer without a penny to his name.

Having so little, it wouldn’t be easy for him to stay in Tokyo, but it wasn’t impossible.

“Kenshin-san…” Kaoru started. “As far as anyone needs to know, you were simply a concerned father out to rescue his daughter today. However, if Hiruma and his thugs come to the same, ah, unfortunate conclusion as I did about your identity, then… well, the damage is already done, isn’t it?”

“Oh…”

Oyuki inhaled sharply. “But, doesn’t that mean you can stay, dad?”

His brows furrowed. “Well, no… not exactly. This one spent the whole day looking for jobs, but no one seemed to be willing to hire this one.” He paused, before explaining, “It’s not a new phenomenon. This unworthy one is hardly the best suited for manual labor, but one has very few other skills if one discounts swordsmanship.”

“But, but…” Oyuki scrambled for an idea, “Couldn’t you cook, or wash laundry or clean or something? I know you can do those!”

“Er…” Kenshin looked aside, his cheeks flushing a rather fetching shade of pink. “Oyuki-chan, everyone can keep house, that they can. That sort of work is not something that pays real money, that it isn’t.”  

Kaoru stared at them, facts settling in the place like the pieces of a puzzle and she smiled, an idea taking hold. “Then why don’t you come to live with me, Himura-san?”

“Oro!” He turned to look at her like she had grown a second head, or spouted out something utterly ridiculous.

“At least, until you have gathered enough money to find a place of your own.” Kaoru hurried to explain, made somewhat self-conscious by his reaction. “You see, my house is pretty big and I live alone and ah… well, to be honest, I’m a rather terrible cook. And I might have shredded holes into my linens the last time I tried to scrub stains from them. So some house help would be much appreciated, even if I can’t pay you…” Kaoru trailed off, feeling a mortified heat rising to her face.

_Oh god, did I really blurt it out like that?_

“Uh, but… “ Kenshin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Isn’t that a bit too generous of an offer? We just met today, that we did.”

“I, ah,” Kaoru hesitated, before looking up. “I don’t think so?”

“Dad…” Oyuki murmured, “At least try it? Please?”

Kenshin turned to look at Oyuki, his eyes softening and Kaoru knew what his answer would be before the words formed on his lips.

“Alright.”

An exuberant joy rose in her chest and Kaoru smiled.

The threat against her family’s reputation and sword style was finally over. She had gotten her first female student and in short order, she had also gained a strikingly handsome houseguest, who had just about promised to cook for her every day.

Oh, yes – it seemed that her luck was about to change for the better!

**Author's Note:**

> I got to confess, this canon divergence scenario of “Kenshin and Tomoe having gotten a daughter back in 1865″ is something that I have been playing around in my head for a long, long time. Actually, I could even say it was one of the first fanfic ideas I ever got for RK (and thus making Oyuki one of my earliest OC’s.) I just never wrote it before, because I have always been a bit wary of this "adding sister/brother/daughter/cousin whatever to main-character" trope.
> 
> But anyways, in this scenario, Tomoe gets pregnant sometime in the autumn in 1864 and gives birth late spring the following year. However, just to keep the divergence as minor as possible, the Yaminobu plot against Kenshin and Tomoe comes into fruition sometime later and Tomoe dies like in canon. This leaves Kenshin 15-year-old single dad, who is committed to fighting in the revolution. Ouch! (I’m almost tempted to do a wandering days fic with this premise, because damn that’s a difficult situation.)
> 
> When it comes to Oyuki, well, first of, I imagine her name to come from “O = traditional, feminine starter” + “Yuki = snow”. (Also, in my headcanons Kenshin’s mother had the same name, amusingly enough. ;) ) 
> 
> Oyuki takes after her mother in height and coloring. She will be taller than Kenshin when she is an adult. Her face is very pretty (imagine Kenshin’s and Tomoe’s best features and buff that to max.) But in nature… well, she takes after her father a lot (passionate, stubborn, willful, tendency to inward focus and brooding… ^^*).
> 
> Anyways, this was a really fun story to write!


End file.
